Jag-U-Ar

Years ago, I was in charge of advertising for Jaguar.

Our team fought tooth and nail to restore this once storied brand back to its rightful place. But with Ford (their previous owner) hemorrhaging money, every discussion came down to pounding out the deal and moving the shoddily-built X-type out the door for $269 a month.

The X-type, as I was soon to discover, was nothing more than a European-built Ford Mondeo adorned with a Leaper -- that's Jaguar lingo for the silver cat once found on the hood. The Leaper is no longer attached to Jaguars as the British nanny state legislated them out of existence for fear that pedestrians might find themselves impaled by the iconic cat.

We hawked the X-type night and day. We followed one sales event with another. Until the word event had no meaning whatsoever. We lowered the price. Cut profit margins. Even handed out stuffed Jaguars with every sale. Let me tell you, it's a long, long road from the signature automobile that made James Bond to "here's your complimentary plush toy."

Life could have been so much easier and so much more rewarding had one of the chaps on Brown's Lane said, "Let's stop selling the X-type and bring back the E-type."